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EPILOGUE                             337

men of China, and how many are they? Are there a hundred?
Are there fifty? Are there ten? Are there five? Or rather I
wonder how I would answer Gabriel myself. Are these muti-
lated examples of undernourished neurasthenic half-men, so
much in evidence with their busy triviality, all we have left of
man in modern China, so that a nation of four hundred
million souls is condemned to carry on like a flock without a
shepherd? Where have the good men hidden themselves, as
if in shame? But I am reminded that the good men in China
have always hidden themselves, have in fact always wanted to
hide themselves in wine and women and song, or for the less
emotional souls, in going back to the farm and living a simple
life of nature. I am led then to ponder over the lack of con-
stitutional protection in China, how much this tremendous
fact alone has altered profoundly the general outlook on life
of the nation, has influenced its very philosophy of life, so that
the philosophy of life is an outcome of the social and political
environment rather than vice versa, and, through that change
in philosophy of life from activity to passivity, how much
goodness and constructive endeavour have been lost to the
nation, and real progress thereby retarded.

Man, it seems, has been more sinned against than sinning
in China. For I remember Sung Chiang and the host of good
souls who turned bandits in the end of the Northern Sung
Dynasty. For these were brave glorious bandits, men who could
afford to be good and chivalrous because physically they did
not need any constitutional protection. And I remember
how every great poet expressed his contempt for society by
taking to wine and nature, how Gh'ii YOan in a rage jumped
into the Hsiang River, and Li Po fell overboard in attempting
to reach for the reflection of the moon, how T'ao Yiianming
satisfied himself that his door was seldom opened to visitors
and grass grew over his garden paths; how even great and
upright Gonfucianists who retained a sense of right and wrong
always ended ia official banishment, how Su Tungp'o was
exiled to Huangchow, Han Y<1 was exiled to Gh'aochow and
Liu Chungytian was exiled to Uuchow. I remember how
another class of truly great souls grew impatient of the small
official burden and retired to their poetry and their simple